


Happier Days Are Sooner Found Behind Us

by KieranVieran



Series: When A Light Goes Out [1]
Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Dad AU, M/M, adoption au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-04 19:02:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12777471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KieranVieran/pseuds/KieranVieran
Summary: DISCONTINUED - Brett's not a single parent. Despite appearances, he does have a fiancé. Paul's just at the hospital, and has been for a long while.Brett's worried. He'd be lying if he said otherwise. He wouldn't be lying if he admitted that he was looking for something to help his insomnia. The news isn't good but they're taking it one day at a time. Then he finds one of James' art projects from when Paul had just gotten sick.TLDR [Brett getting all reflective on his life as a family man. And how much he loves his boys. That's it.]ON PERMANENT HIATUS





	1. Looking Back - James

James was 2 years old when they adopted him. In fact, it really was Paul's insistence that they'd looked into becoming parents at all. He was older, at the time, 31 to Brett's 25. And had always wanted a son, a family of his own. So Brett, realizing a puppy wasn't going to do the trick, started looking. And that's how James toddled into their life.

* * *

It was late or early. Who knows? The clock on their living room wall has been busted for months now, Paul kept promising to fix it when he got over his "flu". Now he's lying in a hospital bed half the city and 6 flights of stairs between them. And yep, Brett's phone is dead. He slammed it down on the coffee table, and shakily got to his feet from their atrociously eyesore yellow of a couch. It was a hand-me-down from Paul's great-aunt Virginia. Which, of course, meant they couldn't just leave it on the curb. 

"I need a phone charger and a fucking drink."

The bottle of Scotch was, as always in the spice cabinet, top shelf. To avoid any wayward kids getting ahold of it. The charger was a different story. They are, permanently, gone. Non-existent. "We buy a new pack and they all get stolen or broken." Brett caught himself waiting to hear Paul's trademark response, "Such is the life of a parent," and he didn't bother grabbing a glass. There was only a tiny amount anyway. Would've barely filled a shot glass. 

He set the empty bottle on the kitchen counter and rummaged around in the junk drawer, digging through random buttons and unused mini flashlights. Ah ha! "Jackpot!"

It was a cable for a charger, now all he has to do is the find the box, and he's done. He knew where one was, but it was in Paul's office. No one had been in there since he was transferred to the new hospital. 

He stood there, just staring at the door from across the room. Then he realized, _what the fuck I am doing? It's just a door, it's not the end of the world if I open it._

So he did.And it wasn't the end of the world, at least not physically. Emotionally, it was getting up there on the fucked up scale. He flicked the light switch, and a pale orange light filled the room. _That's right, I had forgotten about the weird amber lampshade Lindsey had pawned off on us. Whatever._  As he walked forward towards the desk, he noticed a note with James' messy handwriting taped to the cover of a book. It said, "Papá, thanks for letting me borrow your charger, especially while you're sick. We had to make a stupid art project in school, and it took my group like a month to finish it. Don't worry, we still passed, even if we didn't get done on time. Turns out you being in the hospital has a lot of pull around Vista."

Brett frowned, "Note to self : talk to my eleven year old about his morality after breakfast tomorrow." But to be fair, he probably should look at James' work. Just to see how long he should be grounded for, if nothing else. Right?

* * *

He sat down and flipped open to the title page. Also in James' messy handwriting, written in blue pen, "My Family Scrapbook". He smiled as he saw that, first, James had included a page dedicated to his Mom. All decorated with love and care, a couple of phrases written in the margins in Spanish, and a mini Puerto Rican flag stapled to the top right corner. Several pictures of them together, from her holding him shortly after his birth to Christmas Eve last year. Where they'd been cuddled close on the couch, James completely knocked out after dinner. Brett shook his head but couldn't stop smiling. He was glad James and his Mom despite fighting like cats and dogs... Well, that she was a part of the family. An admittedly huge, dysfunctional, melting pot mess of a family, but a family nonetheless.

And he had Ein. If everyone in his modestly conservative hometown weren't scared enough when Brett announced he was  _pansexual_ and engaged to a _man_. Or that, he would, two years later, be _adopting_ a mixed race toddler. The Facebook post detailing how they gave their already hyperactive  2 year old a _corgi puppy_ for his 1st birthday after his adoption. Well, according to his semi-estranged mother, that certainly took the cake. She even said when the post was read out to Grandma Edith, her reaction was... Surprising. Not everyday did his 89 year old great-grandmother get up from her customary spot on the couch, shuffle outside and curse out God. _But, hey. To each their own. Right?_

* * *

Brett had to pee and he needed another preferably non-alcoholic drink this time, so he left the relative safety of his nostalgia and memories for the kitchen. As he came back, he plugged his phone directly into Paul's computer. Something he'd forgotten was even a possibility, he felt stupid but also noticed a missed call from Lindsey. _Probably nothing._ Besides, he _still_ had to pee _._ A sleepwalking Asher had taken precedent, Brett had caught him trying to open the supposedly "locked" bathroom door. (Their downstairs bathroom door doesn't even have a lock.) Asher had been trying to open the _front_ door. One son redirected in the correct direction and sent back to bed later, Dad was tempted to finish his trip down into memory land.


	2. Looking Back - Aleksandr

The first few months Brett, he admits, didn't know what to do with him. Aleksandr was a foster-to-adoption case, so they were allowed pre-placement visits with Aleks in Boston. But even then, they couldn't connect much. The translator, bless her, tried. She put her heart and soul into it.

But Aleksandr was 8. And he was alone. In a foreign country, where he didn't speak the language. It would've been terrifying for anyone. Much less a little kid.

So it took forever. It was a process. They both had things to learn.

* * *

Wondering what was on the next page, however, he continued onwards. It was cleverly titled "The Second-Least Annoying of My Two Younger Brothers". The subtitle read, "Aleks, if you're reading this, well good... It's your page." Brett chuckled at that. James was a year and a half older and Aleks _absolutely_ didn't hate it. _Not at all. Not one bit._ James ~~_never_~~ used Aleks being younger to tease him. _Never_.

Brett stifled a laugh when he saw it was filled with Optimus Prime stickers, an in-joke Brett really didn't understand much, but appreciated. A few doodles of Aleks' guitar and some scattered music notes. There was also a mini Russian flag stapled into the bottom left corner. Part of Brett wondered what flag James had attached to his page. Probably just a American one. His phone buzzed and he glanced at it, a new text. Most likely his boss Geoff, he'll look at it later.   

The rest of Aleks' page was photos of all three of them completely goofing off.

Aleks proudly showing off his freshly pierced ears, at the mall, holding up a package of Hot Topic earrings on his birthday. Asher making a goofy face in the background you'd only notice after a full minute of staring.  

In another, on the opposite side of the page, James and Asher were tossing up bunny ears behind unbeknownst to Aleks. They were sat outside with their cousins, Lindsey's kids, on the steps of the stupid and fake saloon in Knott's Berry Farm. All scarfing down the boysenberry ice cream they absolutely had to have. Looking like they were having the times of their lives, maybe even learning what fun was. Laughing and talking with family. Brett smiled and shook his head, remembering that directly after Lindsey took this, Paul was persuaded by all the kids into letting them ride Ghostrider one more time before leaving. Yeah, and now, the kids _might_ be banned from Knott's until they graduate. From college. However, while the kids were learning how pranks worked, the adults also learned important lessons that day. Communicate better. Talk to each other more. And for the love of all things right in this universe, don't leave Asher, Trevor, and Jakob alone together in public. Ever again.   

The last picture was of Aleksandr at the pet store, beaming, because he finally got good enough grades to pick out a pet of his own. Brett knew there was a kitten Aleks had liked but Paul was allergic. Eventually, after almost three long hours, of debating between getting a new puppy (a lab mix this time) or a rat. He decided on the rat because no one knew whether or not Ein would accept a new dog. However, that still hasn't stopped his campaign for a Key- Kee-something... 

"Maybe one day," Brett admitted to himself, "It'd be nice but not now. Later."

* * *

Brett closed the book and went to check the time on his phone. Shit. It's almost 4 in the morning. Better get some sleep before tomorrow. I'll finish looking through this in the morning. Maybe on my lunch break at work. No, I have to pick Aleks up from baseball and then take him to get a haircut. Brett sighed and tried rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. To will himself to stay up a half an hour later but he was too exhausted. I could ask... No, we can't afford me taking another day off. Especially not for such a ridiculous reason. "I've wallowed in self-pity enough," Brett declared to the thin air, even maybe to the house itself. False courage for a coward. In-denial one could say. But Brett doesn't say that, he _can't_ think that. Instead, he drags himself upstairs and collapses on his bed.

Turns out Brett still had a lot to learn. Maybe more than his son did.


End file.
